


These hands were meant to hold weapons of death

by ConfusedStateOfMind



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Anxiety, F/M, Fluff, Grover (Percy Jackson) is a Good Friend, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Original Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson Child(ren) - Freeform, Post-The Heroes of Olympus, Pregnancy, Quests, annabeth chase needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27929275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConfusedStateOfMind/pseuds/ConfusedStateOfMind
Summary: She wondered if her father ever sat up at night thinking about what kind of person she’d become. Annabeth tries not to, hard as it is. Every time she does, it always ends with paranoid nightmares and tears. She wished Rachel were there to offer her any sort of glimpse into the future.——-With Percy off on a quest, Annabeth struggles with the anxiety of being a soon-to-be mother.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase & Clarisse La Rue, Annabeth Chase & Grover Underwood, Annabeth Chase & Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase & Rachel Elizabeth Dare, Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 89





	These hands were meant to hold weapons of death

The sun hadn't even fully risen yet and Annabeth already felt like she was dying. The air was damp and humid, the scent of the sea filled her nostrils so strongly it overwhelmed her, making her feel ill.

Annabeth groaned, pulling her hair away from her damp neck and into a shity attempt at a ponytail. She thought she could feel the heat rising by the second, and she shifted uncomfortably again and again trying to find a position that brought the least amount of pain to her lower back. Letting out something that sounded like a half groan/ half sob, Annabeth ripped the covers off in anger and stood up. 

_ So much for sleeping in _ , she thought bitterly. 

Annabeth paced around the Poseidon cabin, mindlessly trailing back and forth, one hand braced on her hip, the other placed protectively on the giant mound of her abdomen.

Annabeth paused, pulling her shirt up to study the stretch marks that climbed across the surface of her stomach, purple and red and angry looking. Annabeth touched one gingerly, tracing it as if memorizing its pattern. The baby inside was quiet for now, apparently tired after a long night of tossing and turning and bruising all of her insides.

“Life is never going to come easy to me, is it?” Annabeth asked the empty room. She thinks maybe Poseidon can hear her, she is in his cabin afterall. Though it's hard to be sure, watching his son's fiancé having a crisis doesn't seem like the best way to pass the time. The kid didn't move, most likely still sleeping or whatever it does in there when it isn’t beating Annabeth from the inside.

Annabeth tells herself it's for the best.

\--------

The sun was a taunting bastard, intolerably hot in the muggy air. Annabeth sat on an overturned log by the campfire site and didn't bother pretending that she wasn't in a bad mood. She wasn't even a camper anymore, but Chiron had enlisted her help in reconstruction improvements around the camp, she had been staying in the Poseidon cabin for a bit of privacy since the Athena cabin was practically filled to the brim. She  _ was  _ engaged to one of the only members of cabin three, after all. 

Besides, it was one of the safest places to be at the moment, especially if you were carrying the child of one of the most powerful demigods. Annabeth stared down at her hands, scar-speckled and dry, hands that were meant to hold weapons of death, not delicate children. They shook as she held them in front of her, how could these hands ever hold something as precious as a baby?

She wished she were able to focus and do something more productive with them. She wasn't in the right headspace to accomplish any work and she hated it. 

The baby dug a heel up into her ribs and Annabeth let out a groan, grabbing the attention of a few passing campers. She pressed her hand against the spot and hoped it communicated the message of “ _ For the love Athena, please stop _ .” The kid was stubborn though, so it kicked again. She let out a sigh.

“You’re going to be like me, aren’t you?” Annabeth mumbled, rubbing at her side, and felt the jolt of another kick press up against her palm, answering her question.

The rest of the afternoon wasn't any more stimulating and the heat was just as bad, Annabeth sagged against the cool polished stone wall of her temporary quarters. She got a solid thirty minutes to herself, to yell and growl and curse under her breath, cursing at the fates, cursing at the ground. There was a knock, timid and short, and Annabeth took a deep breath as she turned towards the door, knowing that Grover hadn't done anything to deserve receiving the butting end of her bitterness.

“Hey, uh, hi, Annabeth.” Grover smiled shyly at her, fiddling with his hands nervously as he stood in the doorway. “I was wondering if you had, uh, eaten today.”

Annabeth frowned slightly, she hadn't been hungry the last few days, feeling as though she didn't have any space inside her for anything. She knew he would be stopping by eventually, they all seemed to have at least once for the past months. Clarisse worked at the camp, training young demigods, which offered Annabeth some sort of nostalgia and comfort. Rachel stopped by last week to drop off a pregnancy pillow that Mrs. Dare had used during her pregnancy, along with a batch of cookies from Sally Jackson. That put her to tears for hours. 

Thalia had stopped by a few times, telling her about how the others were doing or simply to see how Annabeth was handling everything. They had gone strawberry picking that day. Nico had even been making weekly Mcdonald’s drop offs for her, which was sweet. Her eyes almost started to tear up again.

“Not yet.” She says, unconsciously touching the top of her belly through her loose shirt.

“Oh, well that’s okay. Clarisse and Chiron just wanted me to check in on you- and well, I wanted to see how you were doing. We all care about you.”

She softened. “I know, Grover. Thank you.”

“How about we—we go on a walk? Do you want to walk with me just around the camp? Fresh air is good for pregnancies.”

Annabeth didn't really want to walk, but she didn't want to sit in there either, she didn't want to lie down, feeling every spot of discomfort, thinking about how quiet the cabin was.

Grover continued to look at her and there was something so caring and hopeful in his glance that made Annabeth feel like crying or screaming, she wasn't quite sure.

“Yeah, sure. We can walk.” She answers tersely, because she can feel the strain of how hard Grover was trying. He was too good of a friend to her. No matter how much Annabeth snapped and grunted and glared, he still tried to make her life easier. Grover had spent the last five months continuously popping by in order to check in on her and make sure she wasn't dead. Someone always had to make sure she was  _ actually _ taking care of herself now that Percy was away. 

He was one of her oldest friends and Annabeth didn't know how to repay the favor. 

Grover smiled again, surprised and so obviously pleased, he took a step back and gestured for her to go in front of him. “Great! We’ll go around camp or until—however long you want.” He says, and Annabeth nodded quietly.  _ Trying, she _ thought.  _ I’m trying _ .

The sun had already started its descent, but the heat continued to hang thickly in the damp air as they walked around the perimeter of camp half blood. Things were a bit lonely at camp, when her friends were away doing important things with their busy lives outside of camp half blood. Like Thalia and Rachel. 

Even Grover, who had been by her side the most had important things to do, things she was taking time away from while he visited her. There were times when he’d go away for a week, and the other older camp counselors had tasks to do, where Annabeth would sit inside for hours without human contact, and it would be all day until Clarisse came by to drag her to the mess hall to eat. At least on those days alone no one would be there to see her when she got so frustrated with herself that she cried, red-faced and furious, tossing papers and books around the room in anger.

“Heard anything new today?” Grover asked as they approached the armory, and Annabeth curled her nails into her palm to keep herself from snapping something snide or hurtful.

“Nothing.” She mumbled instead, looking out of the corner of her eye as Grover twisted his fingers together nervously. Not one phone call or iris message for the past month.  _ It was happening again.  _

Grover pressed his mouth into a thin line, and scratched the back of his neck.

“He’ll be alright, Annabeth. He's just...busy.” He said earnestly, his eyes almost begging her to believe him.

Annabeth tried to think of something to say, but the humidity hung in heavy ropes over her, making her too exhausted to think. Her legs were sore, her feet swollen in her running shoes. And there was that feeling again, rising in her chest, that feeling that everything was  _ so incredibly wrong.  _ He wasn’t supposed to be gone this long, they all knew that, and she couldn’t help but think—

“It- its really hot out here,” Annabeth turned back towards cabins across the field, “I’m going back.” She stated.

Grover looked apologetic, and Annabeth felt a slap of guilt. She didn't say anything though, and instead forced herself to walk, willing her legs to carry her away from a conversation that she didn't want to have.

“Of course,” Grover said at her shoulder, “Yeah, I don't know what I was thinking, it's sweltering out here.” 

They walked back towards the cabins in relative silence, and Annabeth chewed on the inside of her cheek in order to hold in the question that had been burning in her mind.

_ What if he isn’t? What if he isn’t? What if— _

\--

“I don't like this.” She stated, sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling his blue sweatshirt over her head. She was only 3 months along. Wearing it now, she couldn't see the small bump of her stomach. 

“Don't like what?” Percy asked, his back turned to her as he added another piece of ambrosia to his bag.

“You know what, Seaweed Brain. I don't like being left behind while you and the others get to go off on a quest.”

Percy let out a sigh as he put his bag down and stood up, running a hand through his hair as he turned to look at her. 

“Well, you don’t have much of a choice.” He gestured at her with both hands and she moved to place a hand over the baby bump. 

“Yeah, but—“ She let out a groan. “I hate feeling useless, you know that.”

He let out a chuckle and sat down on the bed next to her. “You aren’t useless. Camp half blood needs you to be here right now. Besides, it’s safer here.” 

Percy wrapped his arm around her shoulder and she sighed, leaning against him. “Yeah yeah, I know. How long will you be gone?”

He paused, rubbing the small of her back where he knew it had been sore for the past couple days.

“It’s hard to say. It could be weeks, it could be months. It'll be fine Annabeth, I’ll have Frank, Leo, all the others with me. I'll be home long before you enter the third trimester.”

_ But what if it’s not fine?  _ She wanted to ask him.  _ What if you don’t come back and I have to take care of a baby by myself?  _ She didn’t say it loud, though. She knew neither him nor her had the answer for that, despite how much it annoyed her. 

“Just...don’t miss me too much, ok?” Annabeth teased, attempting to lighten the mood after seeing the concern on Percy's face. 

He let out a chuckle and pressed a quick kiss to her mouth. 

“I’ll do my best.” He grinned, but his green eyes were tired, and a tiny trace of something like worry flashed across his face. He hasn’t slept well since they found out she was pregnant, then again, neither had she. There was no doubt that the couple would be experiencing more nightmares due to the pregnancy, and that the nightmares would last long after the birth of their child. The dreams don't necessarily mean anything, she prayed they didn't. Every parent has their anxieties, right? They assume it’s like that for all demigod parents. It’s for the best they think that.

“Hey lovebirds!” A voice called out, and a moment later Piper McLean was standing in the open doorway of the Poseidon cabin with a smirk on her face. She was already dressed in her armour and had a bag in hand. 

“I hate to break up such a sweet goodbye but Hazel’s getting ancy and Jason looks like he's ready to punch a wall.” She tilts her head motioning towards outside as if to say  _ Hurry up, move it.  _

Percy reluctantly stood up, grabbing his bag as he did so, and bent down to give Annabeth one last kiss. She walked with them as they approached the group, and Annabeth felt a tinge of jealousy. Piper seemed to notice this, and gave her a pat on the bag.

“Well, look on the bright side. At least you don’t have to deal with Leo singing along to shitty road trip music.”

“I resent that, Piper!” Leo shouted, and Annabeth chuckled slightly. She said her goodbyes. and placed a hand protectively on her stomach. 

_ Come back _ , Annabeth thought, watching Percy walk away, towards some quest that'll take him far off without her.  _ Please come back. _

-

She woke up drenched in sweat, screaming like a murder victim. Annabeth's throat throbbed as she cradled her head, bending into herself as far as she could with her stomach sticking out. The quick fevered rush of terror and heartache was still running rampant in her mind. The feeling was so strong it made her want to shrivel up and die, give into her anguish and fear. 

He had been wrong. She was nearing her due date sooner and sooner and he showed no sign of returning. 

Five months, Five months without Percy and a full month without a way of getting word to him. Any Iris messages exchanged were short and distant, full of too many tears and way too many words that were not all able to get out. 

_ Five months alone, most of them stuck there, feeling useless and helpless, growing more and more uncomfortable and unfamiliar with her own body. _

She reaches for her camp necklace out of habit, rolling the coral pendant Percy had given her between her fingers. 

“You know,” She whispered, her voice hoarse and sore, “my mother wasn't really there for me growing up.” 

Her hands pushed against the covers to help her sit up. Her heart was still pounding in her chest, the baby moved again, not hard but insistent, as if telling Annabeth it was listening. She stared out at the seastone walls and placed her hand on her belly, resting her palm against her burning skin. Her skin was so stretched, Annabeth was almost afraid to touch it, as if one touch was enough to harm the child inside.

“I promise-” She licked her lips, salt-stained with sweat, “I promise that i'll be there for you. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, and as long as I live you'll never go a day feeling alone or afraid.” 

Annabeth sat there, rubbing her belly in the dark, and wondered if there were any other pregnant demigods that felt this overwhelmed, this lost, this utterly  _ terrified _ . 

“ _ My Gods, I'm so scared for you _ .” She whispered, eyes screwed shut as she held her stomach with both hands.

She wondered if her father ever sat up at night thinking about what kind of person she’d become. Annabeth tries not to, hard as it is. Every time she does, it always ends with paranoid nightmares and tears. She wished Rachel were there to offer her any sort of glimpse into the future.

Her pride stopped her from reaching out, though. Only begrudgingly accepting help if it were thrown at her. She didn't voice how afraid she was to anyone, about how miserable, and uncertain she felt about everything.  _ Her Pride.  _ Her fatal flaw. She cursed at herself.

“Don’t be like me, okay.” Annabeth whispers, rubbing her hand against the top of her stomach where the kicking is usually worst, thinking that the baby would hear her better that way. Her life hadn't been the greatest, she knew that. Sometimes the worst memories blocked out the good ones, no matter how hard she tried to block them out and no matter how long Percy held her telling her it was alright. She knew every rough and harsh edge of herself had helped her to survive to that point, but it scared her to imagine her child going down the same path. 

“Please, just don’t be like me.”

  
  


-

  
  


It was a clear, average summer day when she went into labour. The sun was shining and the air was so thick that Annabeth felt as though she was choking on it every time she heaved for oxygen. 

She’d never felt like this before, the cycles of pain and exhaustion, terror and anger which felt as though they lasted an eternity. 

Grover ran in, probably able to hear her screams from across the camp, gasping for breath and haggard looking, Clarisse barrelling in behind him. 

Annabeth growled at them to leave, doubling over the edge of her desk, her forearms bearing her weight as her insides seized with a pain she had never felt before. Sure, she had been stabbed, poisoned, cursed, but this was different. She felt as if her entire body had been dipped into the Phlegethon, and for a moment Annabeth was scared she’d go into shock.

She doesn’t want to be seen like this, panting and red-faced, tear-stained and scarred out of her mind as she clung to the table for dear life.

The horrible feeling reappears, beating her chest as sharply as the pain stabbing through her pelvis. She cries out and her two friends dove for her, hands touching her shoulder, bracing her forearms. Grover whispers things to her, soothing words while Clarisse rubbed her back.

She wished Piper were there. To use her charm speak on her, convincing her to believe that everything was going to be alright. She wished Thalia was there, too. Or Rachel, or Tyson, or...

Of all the people in the world she might wish for, it’s her father she wants here with her now. He’d never approve of this, of course, having a baby at camp rather than a clean hospital. She missed her father over the course of months she’d been away, and she wished he were there to hold her hand and dry her tears. 

And above all, she wished Percy was there. 

“You’re not alone, Annabeth.” Grover told her sternly, clutching Annabeth's fingers. Clarisse hauled her up carefully with both arms, Grover trailing at her side. 

  
  
  


Will Solace kept telling her to breathe, his manner patient and calm, and Annabeth bit down on the urge to scream at him to fuck off. He was the oldest child of Apollo currently at the camp, he was the most qualified to be telling her what to do. Grover held her hand, and she was well aware of how hard she was crushing it. He looked as though he was going to faint, and Annabeth knew how hard he was pushing himself to be as calm as he was standing next to her. She crushed his hand again as another wave of pain hit her. 

Still, he doesn't leave.

-

Annabeth raised her shaking hands slowly as Will placed the screaming child on her naked chest, framing it carefully, afraid it’ll roll off her any second. It had taken hours, though it was hard to keep track because every waking minute she felt like she was going to die. The sun had risen and was shining again by the time it was over. 

Grover was gawking at her side, eyes and face shining with tears and sweat. Annabeth doesn’t look away from the bald curve of the baby's head. 

“Oh, oh my Gods.” She gasped, fingers barely touching the soft skin, warm and fragile. “Oh shit.” 

Because it was a baby,  _ her _ baby, laying on her chest, letting out a whimpering wheeze and a snuffling cry, and a few tears rolled down Annabeth's cheek as she cupped one palm around its back and another around it’s still soft skull, as tenderly as she possibly could with her slightly shaking hands. 

He had her eyes, as obvious as it was, but to Annabeth it was fascinating. Even more so was how dark his hair was, how it looked so unbelievably  _ Percy _ . The baby let out what sounded like a chirp, and Annabeth felt her heart surge. 

  
  


-

Everything about her child was small. His nose, his tiny little fists, his ears, his toes. Rachel arrived only thirty minutes after the baby came out, she measured the pink sole of the baby's foot against the length of her palm and gushed, and Grover whispered things Annabeth couldn't make out at the child while he slept and marvelled every single time he opens his eyes, even if it's only for a second.

Chiron had sent a message out, he told Annabeth as soon as the first contractions started, and said Percy would be here as soon as he could. Though that wasn't very helpful, it could take days. She pushed that thought to the back of her mind and turned all her attention to the baby that had taken up the spot as her number one priority.

Annabeth held him and kissed the soft mound of his nose, afraid she’ll push too hard.

“Sorry, baby.” She apologized, rocking him in cautious arms when he started to cry. He turned quiet, mostly, eyes shut again and face turned towards her chest. Annabeth worried that he’d fall asleep while feeding and choke. She didn't know if that was the sort of question that Will could answer, or if it was one that was actually possible. One thing about parenthood that bothered her was the inability to answer some of her own questions. It frustrated her.

She wonders what Percy will think when he sees their baby, if he’ll agree with Grover that he looks a fighter. To Annabeth, he just looked like a helpless baby, and she prayed he'd never have to become a fighter.

“What are you going to name him?” Grover asked, standing over the bed, and Annabeth chewed on her thumbnail, inhaling the salty air of the poseidon cabin. 

“There's no rush, though. He was only born this morning.” He added quickly, as if afraid he’d put too much pressure on her.

She wasn't sure about it, Annabeth wanted Percy there when they named their baby.

-

That night Annabeth sat on the edge of the bed and stared lovingly into the metal crate the Hephaestus cabin had crafted into a makeshift crib, She didnt know how he could sleep through the summers heat, but she’s glad that he can, and Annabeth felt a sense of reassurance watching her child sleep.

She watched the way his dark eyelashes twitched while he dreamed, and she pondered curiously about what babies could possibly dream about. 

There was a sound from outside, just barely able to be heard, and Annabeth unconsciously raised an arm over the baby protectively.

The door of the Poseidon cabin swung open, and a disheveled Percy Jackson ran into the room, eyes wide and bewildered. There were wounds on his face, some still showed dried blood leaking from the gashes. 

“I received Chiron’s message.” He breathed, staring at her and something in her gut did a flip. 

“I came as soon as I could—”  It's those words that finally stir Annabeth into movement. She shot up from the bed and she took a step forward. Percy does too, and in a few strides, they collapse into each other's arms. They say nothing for a long moment, just holding each other tightly, both afraid to let go. 

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry—”  Percy mumbled frantically into her hair.

Annabeth, after months of stress, finally let out a small sob. 

“Percy. Gods, don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong. Hell, I only gave birth this morning and you got here in the matter of hours. I didn't think I'd see you for days.” She sniffed, letting out a small laugh as he pressed a kiss to her neck.

The laugh must've woken the baby, because immediately he started to stir, squawking with confusion in his crib.

Annabeth pulled away. 

“Do you want to hold him?” Annabeth asked softly, pushing a strand of hair off Percy's forehead. 

He looked as though he hadn't slept in days, and there were unshed tears in his eyes as he stared at where their child laid. She grabbed his hand and led him to the crib, and Percy inhaled sharply. 

“W—what if I drop him?” Percy cast a glance towards Annabeth, nervousness sitting on his shoulders, his face softened with anxiety. 

She’d seen him face Kronos, and Gaea herself, and they'd gone through Tartarus, facing all sort of horrors together. But as she looked at his face, she could see how terrified he was. She had felt the same way when the baby had been first placed in her arms.

“You won't.” She said earnestly, and Percy hesitated before holding his breath as he carefully reached into the crib.

The baby snuffled, letting out one of his breathy squawks, and Percy let out the breath he was holding in in the form of a quiet chuckle, tears starting to stream down his face. He lifted the baby carefully, so careful and delicate for someone whose ADHD was worse than Annabeths.

“Hey there,” he whispered, voice ragged, and Annabeth bit her lip hard, smiling with tears in her eyes, she leaned her head gingerly against his shoulder. “I'm your dad.” 

  
  


“I haven't named him yet,” Annabeth said, reaching to carefully stroke the baby's head, “I wanted to wait for you to meet him.”

Percy blinked, eyes wet, staring at how the baby curled its tiny fist around his finger. “How about the one we talked about, before I left?”

Annabeth looked at him, soaking in his expression. “Are you sure?”

Percy let out a chuckle and sniffed, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

”Of course i'm sure. Besides, Luke Jackson has a nice ring to it.” Annabeth smiled again, and noticed the bags under Percy's eyes. She’d tell him to get some rest, but there was a twinkle in his eyes as he refused to break eye contact with baby Luke. 

They would talk about his quest later, share what had happened during the time they were separated, but at the moment they simply stood there, clutching their child close. At the moment, Annabeth felt pure bliss.


End file.
